


Locket

by ShadowSelene (Shadowdianne)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 06:16:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15701529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowdianne/pseuds/ShadowSelene
Summary: Word prompt: LocketAsked by waknatious via tumblr





	Locket

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a more “fairy-tale-esque” take on what could be understood from the Author’s power and magic so while it takes the magic system of the series as a root it has some deviances that are all over the place. Because I’m evil and all that xd And let me free on a magic system and I will play until I fall asleep.

* * *

It whirred on her hand, covered in rust and dirt and, as Emma stared at it, she tried to clean the ink stains that tinted the metal. Her thumb and index came back dirty and black and she sighed while still looking at it; thinking on wishes and prophecies and curses she, once upon a time, had considered tales and stories told to little children in order to behave.

She remembered the way she had glanced at Regina as they were told about the existence of the authors, about the improbable lines written with magic and fate. She remembered thinking, talking with Regina, about their own fate and stories, stories that seemed to be only pages on a book they couldn’t change. She remembered looking at Regina then, hope and love slowly ebbing away as the brunette turned towards Robin, towards the man with the lion tattoo and a story ebbed on his own soul Emma couldn’t even begin to understand. She thought on how she had cursed her own decisions, the reality of being Snow’s daughter; the foretold savior and hero: The woman who couldn’t be free, wouldn’t be free, as ink and words circled her body, dragging her down.

She drummed her thumb against the locket, the author’s mansion at her back and the chill morning breeze playing with her locks. The mansion wasn’t far from the natural border the merging of the realms had created with the actual enchanted forest and, as she stood -boots dirty and eyes red-rimmed- she could almost hear the twinkling of fairies and will-o-wisps playing just a few meters away beyond her reach. She could go inside, her mind provided, but she didn’t move, Hook’s ring impossibly hot on her other hand and screams and recriminations still floating on her mind.

She had failed. Had failed to reach that happy estate everyone had told her she needed. Being one of the good guys, one of those that appeared on Henry’s childhood stories with a sword on their hand and a prophecy above their heads, she needed a happy ever after. And she had failed.

She had married against her best, most deeply rooted fears and voices, those that had kept her together and standing during her worst moments in life. She had married and turned her back to those who she loved and had left everyone but her keep moving forward as she looked at them, glancing from the sides of a road that wasn’t perfect, no, but was still hers to decide and be.

The lockets whirred louder now, the enchantment inside battling against the brass cover, the locket almost pulsing on her hand alongside her heartbeat as drops of liquid magic coated Emma’s fingers; oozing and leaving behind a faint taste and scent of ozone. She could fix everything, Emma thought as her magic kept dribbling into the ground in front of the mansion Just as Regina had merged everything, just as she had become Queen. She deserved it, the blonde thought as she nodded to herself, thinking on those lessons she had once had with Regina, the cautionary tales of fairies and deals lost on childhood nightmares and elongated shadows she had learnt long ago to not listen to. She needed that, that very same freedom, that very same opportunity of being… herself.

The locket pulsed and jolted as she brought it to her lips, her wish stuck to her throat and teeth, playing with words and letters as she tried to formulate it, green eyes turning lighter as magic was called. This was her only chance, she thought, so focused she didn’t sense or see the purple magic at her back, at the way it curled and covered the leaves-covered floor.

She, however, heard Regina’s voice.

“Emma.”

It had more meaning than just her name however and Emma could almost hear those other words, the ones coiled behind the simple arrangement of vowels and consonants that formed her name. “Don’t cast a curse, don’t do it.”

Trembling, unspent magic clouding her vision, she turned and faced the older woman, looking at those brown eyes and trying -and yet failing- to pretend she wasn’t in love with her.

“Why not?”

Her voice was brittle and yet loud on the crisp morning air and she licked her upper lip as she saw how Regina sighed and hugged herself, cheeks hollowed from lack of sleep.

This was it, Emma thought, scoffing before raising her hand once again; the author’s locket, the one written on ink and created by fairies, glowing faintly. She was about to cast the curse, about to free herself of lies and half-truths she ought to have broken a long time ago.

The next couple of words, however, made her stop, mouth partially open and last breath caught between her teeth.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

Magic crackling, she barely heard it frying the air around her nor both ring and locket falling to the ground. She could be free, her mind reeled with the thought, written over and over on the insides of her brain. She could be free, start again.

“Please, Emma.”

But how, she thought, lips now pursed into a fine line, pressed together until they felt numb, could she turn away and forget. How…

“I love you.”

She fell into the ground, knees first, and magic a cloud around her, thick enough to be mist. She found herself looking up, at Regina, at her eyes at the way her mouth was also slightly parted, the words still out and real, visible almost to her straining eyes.

“Regina?” She whispered, half-muttering the first syllable, letting it get lost as she pushed the “g” forward, air escaping through slightly closed teeth. She wanted to say more, admit more, but what she could say other than she loved her too?

The locket laid between them, inert.


End file.
